


All of Me

by MinilocIsland



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: (honestly it's very mild), Blow Jobs, Camping, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 01:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinilocIsland/pseuds/MinilocIsland
Summary: Luckily, Isak knows just how to catch Even when he falls.(Or, as in this case: when his attempt at taking Isak camping doesn't go as planned).





	All of Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, this fic is part of a [challenge](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thesmutchallenge) where we all got the same two prompts, drawn from a list: "camping/tent sex" and "domination".  
Title from John Legend (in true Even style, haha).
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely [Ghostcat](https://ghostcat3000.tumblr.com) for the beta. :)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this!

It’s not that Isak hates camping. He doesn’t.

In fact, he’s able to see the appeal of it – the freedom, the closeness to nature, all that. It’s just that he doesn’t really know too much about it.

Admittedly, he does have some faint childhood memory of a night in the woods when he was probably around six or seven. Cut-out moments of water droplets on the inside of the artificial-smelling fabric, a spider in the corner, his parents talking in constrained voices outside.

Then he grew older, and there weren’t many family holidays at all anymore. 

And it’s not that Even loves camping, either. It’s just a constant in his life in a way that it’s never been in Isak’s.

So, when Even suggests they bring his parents’ tent along for the drive up to his grandma’s cabin since there’s this lovely spot at the edge of the woods a mile off the E6 where they always camped when he was a kid―_ nobody else ever comes there, it’ll just be us, it hasn’t rained for weeks and we won’t get cold and wet, I promise― _ Isak shrugs and thinks _ why not. _

Not that he really _ wants _to. But if it’s with Even, it’ll probably be fine.

It will save them some much-needed money if nothing else.

Admittedly, Isak eyes the booking app on his phone a few times as afternoon starts turning into early evening – even checks availability on a couple and they _ do _have rooms. Then he thinks of the enthusiasm in Even’s eyes when he talked of all the memories attached to this camping spot, how lovely it is and how much Isak’s gonna like it. And so, Isak keeps his mouth shut.

If it’s for Even’s sake, he doesn’t really mind anyway.

It’ll be nice, Isak tells himself. Alone in the woods, together, and how hard can it be to raise a tent anyway? 

Apparently, very fucking hard. 

The place is nice, that much is true. Lovely, even. A flat grassy spot at the edge of a forest, a field sloping down to a lake down in the distance, no roads or houses in sight. The early evening sun bathing everything in warm light, the scent of sunlit pine trees fragrant.

It’d be perfect if either of them had so much as the slightest idea how to assemble a tent.

If there’d been some kind of instruction sheet Isak probably wouldn’t have any trouble at all setting it up, but, Even’s parents aren’t Even’s parents for nothing and naturally, they hadn’t bothered to save any such thing. Plus, Isak had counted on the tent being one of those pop-up things he’d seen in ads, and this tent is clearly from way before either of them were born. There’s at least forty different sticks that are supposed to turn into long poles but don’t, other sticks that Isak has no idea what they’re even for, and a couple of large synthetic blue and orange cloth heaps that are supposedly the inner and outer tent. 

Even shrugs, assuring Isak that he has set up this tent a hundred times before and Isak doesn’t have to worry, he can start by unpacking the pegs and making sure there are enough of them. 

Not that Even can answer the question of how many there _ should _be, he just rolls out the ground cloth and walks around it, pulling at the corners with a bite to his lip.

So Isak stands amongst all the different tent parts spread out on the grass, watching Even putter about picking up the different sticks or poles or whatever they’re called with a frown on his face.

“Aren’t those supposed to go the other way?” Isak asks, watching Even trying to screw two poles together, two thin ends _ not _ fitting into each other.

Even casts him a sideways glance, a lop-sided grin on his face as he shrugs. “It’s fine. I can do this, babe.”

“Are you sure?”

There’s a small exasperation to Even’s smile the next time he turns. “I’ll fix this. Go unpack the car, it’s fine.”

When their bags are on the ground beside the car, everything in neat order, the cooler bag with their breakfast standing in the shade, Even doesn’t seem to be the least bit closer to getting the poles to stick together.

It’s not that Isak _ wants _ to question Even or step on his tent-assembling toes, but he can’t resist stepping around the ground cloth, picking up two poles of his own and trying to squeeze them together.

“I think these might be rusty,” Isak says, picking up another pole.

Even looks up at him, eyes a little narrow. “It’s a good tent.”

“I’m sure it is.” Isak bites his lip. “But –”

“It’ll be fine,” Even says again. “I _ promise.” _

It’s not like Isak has a better idea on how to fix this than Even does, so he takes a step back and watches Even walk another lap around the heap of fabric, forehead in wrinkles, shoulders pulled up a little tighter than before.

Even if it’s far from dark yet, Isak’s thoughts can’t help but stray to the maps app and the bed and breakfast he _ knows _is just a couple of miles further down the road. He swallows and thinks of Even’s excitement as he lifted the tent into the car that morning. The thermos of hot water he made sure to pack, and the sleeping bag that he assured Isak would be long enough for his legs.

Isak pushes the thoughts of comfortable beds and a hot shower to the back of his head, and bends down to pick up the pegs instead.

Half an hour later, there’s still only two heaps of fabric lying on the ground, two unequally long rows of poles that neither Isak or Even have the slightest idea where to place, and a much deeper frown on Even’s face.

The sun is dancing dangerously low above the treetops in the distance, evening light on the verge of turning golden, and they haven’t got anywhere to sleep.

“I don’t get this,” Even says, voice tighter than usual. “It’s always been so easy when we’ve done it before.”

Isak swallows, and thinks of the b’n’b again. “Maybe we should, you know. Take a break.”

“No.” Even’s arms tense up against his sides as he tries to force two the thin ends of two more poles together, jaw squared. “We need to get this up before dark, or we’ll never –”

“Even –”

“We’ll never get this finished unless we hurry –”

And with that, Even turns his back towards Isak, large hands fumbling with the tent poles in a manner that screams that he just won’t give it up.

And, well. This _ does _ happen sometimes.

Most people would take Isak for the stubborn one, and that’s probably true most of the time. But – most people also don’t know this – Even has this streak that sometimes comes out, especially when he’s stressed, where he just gets… stuck. 

Unless they’re gonna sleep in the car – _ no thanks _– Isak needs to come up with a plan.

There’s a prickling under his skin as he looks at Even’s long, pale neck, bent forward in concentration. When Even gets like this, there’s not a lot of things that can pull him out of his head and out in the open, but.

Part of him wants to go over there and just grab the tent parts out of Even’s hands and throw them to the ground. Wrestle him down and suck on his neck until he forgets all about this stupid tent.

_ Fuck it. _

Isak throws the tent pegs down, the clinking of them landing on top of each other making Even turn his head and look at him, his mouth a surprised “o”.

“Leave those poles on the ground. We’re going for a walk,” Isak announces, and without looking behind he sets out between the trees, twigs crunching beneath his feet.

He doesn’t have to walk far to reach a kind of clearing, an open round spot covered in long, bright green grass, like a soft carpet. Tall pine trees stand in line around it, branches thick and still in the windless evening. 

He stops in the middle of the clearing and looks up. Watches a few golden-lined clouds float by above the treetops and counts to ten. 

And then, there’s the sound of Even’s feet on the forest floor behind him.

“What the fuck, Isak?” Even says, an impatient ring to his voice. “We need to get that tent up before dark!”

Even stands, lips tight, one hand leaning against the trunk of a birch tree, the other stuffed in his jeans pocket. His shoulders are pulled up tight, his t-shirt too wide at the collar, lean pale arm bent at the elbow. Hair in disarray from running his hand through it too many times, and Isak can see him chewing his lip, foot bouncing against the root of the tree.

Isak puts his hands in his pockets and looks him straight in the eyes. “No, we don’t.”

“Yes, we do. We need to go to sleep,” Even says, emphasis on every word, voice strained and lighter than usual.

Isak wants to roll his eyes. If there’s one thing Even doesn’t need right this minute, it’s sleep. 

“No, we don’t.”

Even pushes himself off the tree before he takes a small step towards Isak, throwing his hands out to the sides. “Yes, we _ do.” _

“No. Listen –” 

Isak eyes him sternly. Watches his fingers tremble, his bitten lip, the crease between his eyebrows.

“The fuck, Isak? Why did you drag me out here and just –”

“Listen, Even. You need to calm down.”

“Calm down? What do you suggest, then?” Even eyes him with a mix of suspicion and exasperation that says _ easy for you to say. _ “That we just – sleep on the ground?”

“No.” Isak stretches out his hands and grabs on to Even’s wrists. “Listen, Even –”

“I _ can _ set up that tent for us,” Even says, voice tight, but he doesn’t make a move to wrestle out of Isak’s grip, just stands there and lets Isak hold him. Still, Isak can hear how his breathing is shallow and thin, can see how he’s anxious and doesn’t know where to place it.

“I know you can, baby,” he says, and tries to keep his voice low and assertive. “But right now, I need you to listen to me, okay?”

Even doesn’t say anything, just shifts his feet and swallows, the tendons of his wrists tense under Isak’s fingers.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Even says, eventually, looking at his feet.

“Okay.” Isak releases his wrists, and nods to the ground. “Lie down on your back.”

“What?” Even jerks his chin up, the frown between his eyebrows back full force, but now, it’s partly confusion and curiosity, not all annoyance.

“Just do as I say. It’ll be fine.” He does his best to not to avert his gaze. Tries to show Even that Isak does know what he needs right now, and that he’s going to give it to him. “Get down on the grass.”

Isak thinks he can see a silent debate going on behind Even’s eyes for a few seconds – the fine stress lines at the corners, the slightly blank gleam to his whites. And then, he licks his lips, and, eyes on Isak, folds his long legs and lies down on his back.

Not very gracefully, but with his gaze fastened in Isak’s.

Isak watches him for a moment. How the scepticism stands written all over his face, but how he still does what Isak says. How obviously Even trusts him.

He goes to stand over Even, one foot on either of his sides, before he sinks down and straddles him, knees sinking down into the soft grass underneath them. Bends forward and grabs on to his wrists again, presses them down into the ground, and kisses him.

There’s still a slight hesitancy to Even’s movements as he kisses back – his mouth opening slowly, his tongue moving only tentatively, but when Isak rises up and looks down at him the skin surrounding his eyes is a little less tense, and there’s a spark of interest in his look that wasn’t there before.

Isak decides that it’s enough for what he has planned – he presses down on Even’s wrists once more before he lets go, and then scoots up to sit on his chest.

“Now open my pants,” Isak says, and Even’s eyes widen instantly. 

His gaze flickers between Isak’s face and his crotch, mouth slightly open. Then, he licks his lips and lifts his hands up to the front of Isak’s jeans. Suddenly, there’s barely a flicker of anxiety left on Even’s face – all Isak sees is anticipation, eyes clear and attentive, as if he’s hanging on to Isak’s every word.

Sometimes, it’s like this when they have sex: one of them taking the lead, the other one following, and it’s heads or tails who does, really. Isak doesn’t mind at all the times Even is the one in charge. When Even towers over him and holds him down, when his eyes go wild and his voice takes that deeper turn. When he tells Isak exactly what he wants to do to him, and does it.

But right now, it isn’t Even’s turn. Right now, Isak needs Even to get out of his head and stay out. And this is just how he’s going to do it.

“Anyone could come,” Even says in a low voice, fingers resting on the top button. 

Isak nods. “Yes.”

Even watches him in silence for a few seconds, chest heaving slightly under Isak’s weight. Then, he starts opening the buttons of Isak’s fly, fingers trembling a little, but he doesn’t blink, only follows his movements with his eyes.

If Isak wasn’t hard already, he is now – the feeling of Even’s fingertips ghosting over the fabric of his underwear, and the sight of Even’s half-open mouth so close to his dick is enough by far. Those full lips, his pointed teeth, the tip of his tongue wet and inviting at his canine.

He reaches down and traces Even’s lower lip with his thumb. Follows the seam where the soft skin turns wet, the sharp edge of Even’s teeth, tickling against his finger pad, and the roof of his palate, hard and slippery. 

Even closes his lips around his thumb and sucks, hard, eyes never leaving Isak’s, a deliberate press of his tongue up on the underside.

The sharp tug in Isak’s crotch that follows is coupled with a warm tingling up along his spine and his neck. 

Just a short minute ago, Even was standing at the edge of the forest with his nerves all over his face, acting like he was about to crawl out of his skin. And now, after just a touch and a few words from Isak, he’s here on his back, quiet and pliant and ready to do whatever Isak decides to ask of him. 

Even if they’ve been together for years now, it still takes Isak's breath away that he has this effect on Even. That he gets to have this. 

He grabs hold of Even’s chin with his other fingers, a firm, safe grip while he slides his thumb all the way in, back to where Even’s mouth turns to throat, and Even doesn’t blink. 

Only runs his fingers lightly along Isak’s open fly, and over the fabric of his briefs. Up and down, and up again. And then, he presses his tongue up against Isak’s thumb and slides his hand in through the opening of his briefs. Wraps his fingers around Isak’s dick, and pulls it out.

No matter how many times Even has had his large hand on his dick, Isak will never tire of it. His fingers, long and deft and covering a bigger part of his dick than Isak has ever managed. His thumb swiping over the head, sending zaps of electricity up into Isak’s belly, making him keen into the touch and grab onto Even’s jaw a little harder.

As amazing as this feels, it’s not what he has in mind for now.

He lets go of Even’s chin and seizes his wrists instead. A firm grip, not intended to be painful, but decisive. Pushes Even’s arms down along his sides and climbs up further, so that he sits on the upper part of Even’s chest instead, squeezing his arms and chest together with his legs. Makes sure that Even’s arms are locked in such a way that he could reach up and pinch Isak’s thighs if he wanted to, but still making it clear who’s in charge. 

Watches Even watch him, big round blue eyes, intent and waiting. Places one hand on his cheek, thumb resting at the corner of his mouth. Wraps his other hand around his own dick and presses it down so that the tip touches Even’s mouth, a bead of precum running down on his lower lip.

And then, with his eyes fastened in Isak’s, Even sticks the tip of his tongue out and licks it up. Swipes his tongue along his upper lip suggestively, before he blinks, slowly, and opens his mouth. A silent sign for Isak to know that he’s yielding for Isak to do what he wants.

Right now, there’s nothing Isak wants more than just this: Even, beneath him on the soft grass, full lips parted and wet from saliva and precum, so beautiful and ready and all _ his. _

When he puts his weight forward and slides his dick into Even’s mouth, Even is there right away, pressing with his tongue and wrapping his lips around it tightly, looking so sinful and so innocent all at once that Isak’s belly does a sharp twist, making the muscles there contract and jerk him a little further forward.

Even’s mouth is so wet and warm, as always, welcoming, the roof of his mouth the perfect path for Isak’s dick to slide along, in and then out almost all the way, and back in again. His eyes half-lidded and dark as he sucks at Isak’s dick. Lightly, at first, then a bit harder, making his cheekbones stand out sharp, and it’s enough for a shiver to run down Isak’s thigh and all the way down to the soles of his feet.

Even just looks so fucking good like this.

The thing is, Isak _ loves _ sucking Even’s dick. Loves how he can make Even’s head thud against the wall with just a light suck, how he can make Even’s legs tremble under his palms with a well-timed swipe of his tongue or by swallowing around his tip. Loves it when Even almost loses it above him, or under him, and Isak can feel him trying to hold back, hips stuttering until he gives in and jerks all the way into his mouth.

This, however, is another kind of perfection. 

He slides his hand up to the back of Even’s head, hair tickling the sides of his fingers, and watches Even’s eyelids flutter. Grabs a firm hold of his hair, a fist full of thick waves, and holds his head steady.

Keeps his eyes fastened on Even’s mouth as he lifts himself up with his thighs and slides his dick even further in, Even’s head a warm weight in his hand, heavy and obedient, his mouth open and dark red inside. 

Not that they do this every day, but often enough for Isak to know what Even’s little gestures mean. That he can trust Even to show him when it’s enough, pinch him like they’ve talked about.

The tight, soft first press of Even’s throat is like heaven, and Isak almost has to close his eyes. Little black dots still swim in the periphery of his vision until he remembers to look down, at Even’s flushed cheeks and the damp, darkened hair at his temples. 

The rough fabric of his jeans scratches against Even’s chin and lower lip as he slides his dick out and then in again, the skin there reddening a little with every push – and there’s something about being fully clothed like this, with only his dick exposed, that makes his whole stomach tighten and something at the small of his back fire up. Something that urges him to push forward again, deeper, almost all the way in. 

Even’s hair is turning wetter from sweat, slipping a little between his fingers, and he fists it tighter not to lose his grip. Draws a line with his other thumb from Even’s mouth up along his cheek, to the wetness forming at the corner of his eye.

“You look so fucking good like this,” Isak whispers, something dark and primal unfurling inside him at the sight, making him push harder into Even’s mouth and tighten the grip on his hair even more.

Suddenly, there’s the feeling of Even’s arms tensing up under his thighs, and for a second Isak stills, worried that he’s gone too far. That this is too much.

He’s just about to pull out when suddenly, there are two big hands on his ass. Even’s palms flat, fingers spread, like a reassurance, and then Even pushes him forward, all the way in to the hilt.

Isak almost chokes on his own tongue when he sees his dick disappearing all the way into Even’s mouth, those sinful lips closing around it, pleasure rippling through his belly in waves. 

“Fuck,” he manages to pant out, one hand grasping for purchase in Even’s hair, the other one holding his neck. 

Even keeps his eyes closed as he lets go of Isak’s ass, the soft press of his throat pushing Isak back out. Then, there’s Even’s hands on him again, pushing him back in, letting go and repeating, the silent permission clear enough.

The next time, Isak pushes all the way in of his own accord, bending Even’s neck up to give him the resistance he needs, and he knows he’s not going to last long. 

Anyone could come right now, stand only a metre away from them and Isak wouldn’t notice. Everything is narrowed down to this; his vision a tunnel with its only focus on Even’s mouth closed around his dick, his damp forehead, hair clinging to it in wet strands, his lashes like fans below his shut eyes, plastered together with sweat and tears. The only sounds he hears is the pulse hammering in his ears, his own heavy breaths, the constrained wet sounds of his dick sliding in and out of Even’s throat.

Not that he could find it in himself to care. Not right now, with Even surrendering completely to him, taking everything Isak has to give him, letting Isak show him that he knows just what Even needs.

Even makes a humming sound around his dick, and the sound vibrates all the way up his groin and into his stomach, sending sparks through his whole body. A familiar tightness is building in his lower gut, his balls pulling up tight behind the fabric of his jeans.

Vision blurring at the edges and thighs starting to shake from exertion, he has to let go of Even’s neck and put one hand in the grass to steady himself – and when Even puts his hands on his ass and pulls him in one last time, it’s all over. 

Held tightly by Even, burying himself all the way down to the base, the tip of Even’s nose cold against his skin, there’s nothing he can do to keep from falling off the edge.

When he starts coming it’s almost like a punch to the gut – his stomach contracts jerkily, forcing him to steady himself on the hand on the ground, and he tries to prolong it without thinking – pushes his dick down Even’s throat as deep as he can. Maybe he gasps, or pants, he has no idea.

He just about has the presence of mind to pull out before he’s finished – pushes himself up and lets Even’s head fall back into his hand, the last drops of come leaking out of his dick just as the tip slides out and rests against Even’s lower lip. White and thick stripes colouring the red swollen skin, and Isak puts his index finger in it on sheer instinct. Smears it in, all the way from one side of Even’s mouth to the other, and Even lets him, sticks the tip of his tongue out and nudges it against his finger.

It’s so filthy, and yet – or because of it – Isak can feel a wave of emotion rush up inside.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, and runs his finger pad over Even’s tongue, the rugged wetness tickling his skin.

“I love you,” Even croaks, voice hoarse and rough, sounding totally wrecked.

If Isak hadn’t come only seconds ago, he’d tip over the edge then and there from that sound alone.

He scoots down on his hands and knees so that his mouth is level with Even’s, and kisses him. Swipes his tongue over Even’s lips and pushes the come on it back inside, the taste of himself a little odd but not unpleasant.

“I love you, too,” he mumbles into Even’s mouth, and Even hums against his lips and kisses him back. Soft and so gentle compared to what they just did, and it fills Isak’s chest with something he cannot quite place. A sense of perfection so encompassing that it almost aches. 

A warmth filling his whole being with the fact that _ he _ has the power to drag Even out of his head and into his body and the present like this, and that Even welcomes it. 

And he’s gonna make sure to take care of Even too. Just the way he needs it.

Hovering over Even like this, Isak can feel how hard he is against his lower stomach, Even’s hips lifting upwards in small, stuttering movements. Isak doesn’t press down against him, however, doesn’t give him the friction he’s obviously searching for. 

Right now, Isak has other plans.

There’s a soft whine in Even’s throat as Isak lifts his hips up, away from him, and Isak knows very well how desperate he must be now. How much he wants Isak to lie down and let him press himself against him until he comes.

And however much he’d like that, or how appealing it’d be to put his mouth on Even or maybe make him come with his hand, quick and efficient, that’s not what he’s going to do.

He climbs off Even, backs away from him and sits down on the grass, Even staring at him with an incredulous look on his face, as if he can’t believe that Isak would leave him like this.

“Isak,” Even says, his usual baritone distorted and broken, but he lies still with his hands along his sides. Waiting, obedient but impatient, his stomach heaving quickly, a visible bulge at the front of his pants.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Isak says in a low voice. “I’ll take care of you.”

He puts one hand on Even’s cheek, thumb catching on his still wet and swollen lower lip, and continues down, along his long, pale throat. Follows the line of Even’s collarbone under his t-shirt, ribs like soft bumps under his fingertips. Even’s breathing gets quicker as Isak’s hand nears his lower stomach, and there’s a sharp intake of breath when Isak steers his hand away, out to his hip and down his leg. 

“Are you just gonna sit there and watch me?” Even says, biting his lip, thigh trembling a little under Isak’s palm.

Isak smiles down at him. “Yes.”

“What?” Even’s eyes grow even bigger, almost offended, glazed over with confusion and arousal.

“You heard me,” Isak says, and squeezes Even’s knee. “Now open your pants.”

Even licks his lips, swiftly, and then his hands fly down to the zipper of his jeans, his fingers shaking so much that he barely manages to open the button. 

There’s a dark spot on the fabric of Even’s briefs, and Isak has to remind himself of his plan to refrain from leaning down and lick at it. 

“Touch yourself,” he says, his own voice sounding a little rougher than before. “And let me see.”

Even wastes no time in pushing his pants down over his hips, his briefs pulling his dick with them, and it springs up against his stomach when it’s released. Long and hard and wet at the tip, Even’s fingers closing around it less than a second later.

It’s almost ridiculous how that sight alone can make Isak’s dick twitch when he came only a few minutes ago, but here he is. 

He’s always had a thing for Even’s hands – for his huge, flat palms, his almost ridiculously long fingers, the joints standing out like knobs – and watching it work like this with _ anything _would have Isak staring in delight.

And when it’s holding on to Even’s dick like this – it’s mesmerizing to watch.

To be fair, everything about Even is.

Especially at this moment. The sight of his chest heaving under his damp t-shirt; his arm, lean yet strong, muscles tensing with every move of his hand; the pale skin of his stomach with its soft brown happy trail. His mouth, hanging open, lips thick, teeth sharp. His eyes, heavy-lidded and dark, staring straight at Isak. The red tip of his dick, appearing and disappearing in his fist.

“Isak. Baby,” Even whispers, and Isak squeezes his knee in encouragement.

It’s obvious from the blush on Even’s neck and cheeks that this isn’t going to take long, and Isak isn’t really in the mood to deny him anything right now.

“It’s okay,” he whispers back, and slides his hand along Even’s calf. “Let me see you come, baby.”

Even closes his eyes and turns his head to the side, hair falling onto the grass, a perfect blend of dirty blonde strands on the fresh green, and whimpers.

And then, with a low moan, he starts coming, leg jerking under Isak’s hand, white stripes of come landing all over his hand, coating those long perfect fingers while he pants into his own shoulder. Over and over again, until there’s nothing left and he lies still, wrecked and messy and perfect.

There’s a faint pulsing between Isak’s legs at the sight, and without thinking he reaches out his hand and grabs on to Even’s wrist. Watches the white smeared all over Even’s hand before he presses it down on his stomach, Even’s fingers drawing a sloppy trail in the come there.

A movement on Even’s face catches Isak’s gaze; it’s Even’s eyes fluttering open, still-dark eyes staring at Isak, mouth agape.

There’s nothing else Isak can do at this moment than lift Even’s hand up and bring it to his face, placing it over his open mouth without a word. He watches in fascination as Even licks it clean, slow and meticulous, eyes piercing Isak’s the whole time. 

“Fuck,” Isak says, and then he leans down and kisses him. Fingers interlacing with Even’s, he lays their hands down on the grass above Even’s head and licks along the seam of his lips, the taste of them combined making his chest surge. 

“I love you,” Even mumbles again, and sighs into his mouth before he kisses him back, breath warm and tongue wet. 

They lie like that for a while, Even still on his back, Isak holding him down with his weight and kissing him slowly. After a while, Isak notices that there actually are birds chirping somewhere above them, and that there’s a faint rustle of wind up in the trees.

Those sounds must have been there all the time – he just didn’t notice. 

It must have turned a little colder as well – the evening air actually feels a little chilly on his arms now that the sweat there is starting to dry, the contrast to the warmth of Even’s body obvious.

Not that it matters yet. He just wants to lie here like this a little while longer.

“Thank you,” Even says eventually, the smile on his lips nothing but sated, calm and content. “For getting me out of my head.”

Isak can’t help but chuckle. “My pleasure.”

“I bet it was.” Even smiles even wider, that kind of almost-laugh where his eyes are reduced to shards of glitter, the thin lines at the corners amused and endeared in a heady mix, sharp teeth indenting his lower lip.

Isak laughs. “It was.”

“You’re the best.” Even licks his lips. “Fuck, that was hot.”

“It was.” Isak squeezes his sides with his thighs. “Worth all of the hassle with the tent. Almost.”

Even looks up to the side, his eyes suddenly a bit less sparkly. “Yeah. Ugh, – I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Isak grabs his hands tighter. “Sorry for what?”

“For me just – fucking this up and not managing to fix all of this tent business.” Even licks his lips, before he looks Isak in the eyes again. “I just – I really wanted you to have this, you know?” 

“You didn’t fuck anything up.” Isak watches him, hoping the sincerity comes through in his voice.

“Yeah, but I – I know you didn’t get to do these things when you were younger, and I guess I kinda went a little… overboard with it. I really wanted to, you know. Take care of you.” Even sighs, and bites his lip. “Sorry that I made a mess out of it instead.”

“Well, you licked most of it up.”

Surprise spreads over Even’s face, his eyes disappearing completely in the wrinkles as he laughs. It’s a little hoarse and cracked, but Isak has hardly heard anything more delightful in his life. “True.”

“And baby. Of course it’s okay. It’s – it’s more than okay.” He leans down and kisses Even’s nose, the tip warm against his lips. “I had no idea you how much you wanted to do this for me.”

“I did.” Even tilts his chin up, and kisses him lightly on the mouth. “But I guess it’s, uh, a little late now.” 

Isak looks up. The sun has disappeared behind the treetops, leaving the clearing bathed in a warm golden light. His knees are turning cold, and as he shifts his weight a little he can feel that the fabric of his jeans has turned damp.

He doesn’t even want to think about how wet and uncomfortable Even’s t-shirt must be by now.

“Maybe we can sleep in the car,” Even continues, a frown on his upper lip. “I don’t know –”

“Baby.” Isak interrupts him. “I – would you be offended if I told you there’s a b’n’b, like, ten minutes from here?”

Even stares at him for a second, and Isak almost has time to start thinking that he did take offence for real, before his smile is back full force.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Even says. “After you fucking my face on the forest floor, of course.”

Isak laughs, before he bends down and kisses him again. 

“I still would like to go camping with you one day, though,” he says against Even’s lips. “I’d like it if you showed me.”

“Yeah.” Even’s hand comes up to Isak’s cheek, thumb tracing his eyebrow. “I’d like that too. But not tonight.”

“Nah. Not tonight.” Isak smiles. “Also, I’m kinda cold now.”

“Me too,” Even says. “And I – I really look forward to sleeping in a bed. With you.”

Isak runs his thumb along Even’s jaw and cards his fingers through his hair. Watches the little crumbs of white still left at the corners of Even’s eyes, before he presses their lips together one last time. “Yeah. Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this :)  
Come talk to me about Skam and fic and everything else on [tumblr](https://irazor.tumblr.com)!


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